Short Fiction
by Shivver
Summary: Short fiction inspired by the Fanfic100 prompts, who contest on LiveJournal, and prompts from Literary Fan Fiction on deviantArt.
1. 78: Where?

**Author's Note:** This is a series of works using the prompts from the Fanfic100 community on LiveJournal.

This first story, a drabble, is set during "The Doctor's Wife."

* * *

Prompt: 78. Where?

* * *

"No, but I always took you where you needed to go."

As his eyes lit up with the memories of the people saved at each unintended destination during his seven hundred years of wandering, she was remembering only two journeys: a landing on a dusty red planet, outside a tiny human colony, and a short jump half an hour later, with three additional passengers, to a deserted street on Earth. She gazed at him with an expression of eccentric reason, taking great care to conceal the misery her choice that day brought her.

_It was where you needed to go._


	2. 85: She

"The Doctor told us to stay here! If we leave, he won't be able to find us."

Tegan heard Nyssa's words, but her own mind was already discounting their wisdom. She stood in the center of the small, trembling cave staring at the ceiling, which was periodically showering the two women with dust and debris. Every so often, a jolt would rattle the chamber, dislodging larger pebbles and rocks.

"If the Doctor doesn't get that excavator thing turned off soon, this place will collapse on us and there'll be nothing left to find. We've got to go." As if on cue, another violent rattle dropped gravel on the two women. Tegan dashed forward and, grabbing Nyssa's hand, pulled her friend towards the larger of the two tunnels leading out. They knew that the smaller opening led deeper into the complex, so she hoped that the one she chose led out.

As the tunnel curved, the light from the room dimmed until it became too dark to see anything and they were forced to slow their progress to a crawl. Tegan let go of Nyssa's hand so that she could use both of hers to feel her way along the wall. "It's okay, Nyssa. Go slowly and use the wall to guide you. And step carefully."

"Right."

They crept along for a few minutes, silent themselves, though their ears and whole bodies were filled with the constant tremors. A great crack rent the air, followed by the crash and rumble of tonnes of earth. A brief blast of wind from behind them, smelling of moist rock, ruffled their clothes and hair.

"Just in time," Tegan breathed.

"Maybe," Nyssa stated. "It really could have been any of them. In a closed place like this, the sound will travel." She coughed. "All the dust in the air!"

"Pull your blouse up over your nose. Come on. We have to get out." Following her own advice was difficult with her low-necked smock, and she had to devote a hand to holding it in place so she could breathe through it.

They continued their trek through the total darkness, picking up a little speed as they determined that the floor was generally flat and they gained courage that they wouldn't trip or fall into an unseen hole, but it was still slow going. Tegan began to wonder if she'd made the right decision, if she was leading her friend into an even worse situation than the one they had left.

"Tegan! Look!"

"What?" she responded reflexively, though she had already spotted what Nyssa was talking about. In total darkness, even the dimmest light is easy to see.

"It's light! We must be approaching a new chamber or something!" Nyssa's voice was hopeful.

"Oh, I hope so! But keep quiet. There might be those green squid things in there. At least all that grinding will cover us."

The two women crept forward, stepping as light as possible to stay silent, and the growing brightness gave them some courage. The sudden cessation of the tremors and noise was almost as shocking as its initiation had been, and Tegan stumbled with surprise. Nyssa immediately dashed to her aid, whispering, "Are you okay?" but Tegan shushed her.

"Stay quiet! I'm fine." Her voice was barely audible.

The tunnel was starting to curve, and Tegan put her finger to her lip, then pointed at Nyssa's feet to tell her to stay there. Turning, she stepped forward, making her way slowly around the bend to see where their path was taking them. Every slight footfall sounded like it echoed for miles. It wasn't long, however, until she was able to see that the tunnel opened to the outside. She could see sky, not the interior of yet another chamber.

"Nyssa!" she whispered back down the corridor. "Come on! This goes out."

In a few moments, Nyssa appeared beside her and peered out. "Sky? We must be high up in the mountain."

"No!" They jogged up the tunnel and discovered that Nyssa was right: it opened onto a narrow ledge above cliffs that dropped forty feet to the tops of the trees below. Ivy-like climbing vines covered the rock walls around and below it and extended a few feet into the tunnel. At least they had come in the right direction: a spot of deep blue near the distant river advertised the location of the TARDIS.

Staying back by the opening, Nyssa gazed around at the leaf-covered walls. "Now what? We can't get down, and the path back is unsafe at best, caved in at worst."

"And we can't stay here, either. Too easy to spot by anyone down in that forest." Tegan stepped to the edge and looked down.

"Be careful, Tegan!" Nyssa called. "We could wait just inside the tunnel. Though I don't see how the Doctor will find us here."

"Wait." Tegan moved to the right end of the ledge, right next to the wall. "Nyssa, look at this. Right here, the cliff slopes a lot more gently. We could use it like a slide. What do you think?"

Her friend joined her and eyed the descent, her expression dubious. "I don't know. It's probably still too steep."

"Well, it's covered with this ivy stuff, so it'll be padded a little bit, and you can grab onto it to slow yourself. What do you think about these plants?"

Nyssa inspected a leaf, first looking at it carefully and sniffing it before touching it with her bare hand. "It's not covered with needles or anything like that, and it doesn't smell poisonous, though that's a pretty general appraisal." She checked under the leaves and looked at the stem, then finally broke one open, smelling the broken end, then touching it to her tongue. "No, I don't think it's dangerous."

"Then I think we should try it. What do you think?" Tegan peered over the edge again and waited for Nyssa to answer. When it became apparent that Nyssa didn't want to answer and shoot down Tegan's suggestion, she continued. "We have to do something. We can't just sit here. I'll go first if you want."

"I don't want to make you do this..." Nyssa began.

"But you don't want to do it yourself. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Tegan reached out and squeezed Nyssa's shoulder. "Here I go."

Tegan sat down on the edge of the ledge, her feet hanging over the precipice. Counting silently to three, she pushed herself off and let herself slide down the ivy-covered slope. Stifling the urge to scream, she bumped painfully over rocks hidden by the leaves. She slowed herself a bit by grabbing onto the plants when she needed to, but she found she was right: the slope wasn't too steep. As she entered the forest canopy, she could see the wall broke off about four feet above the ground and she scrambled to grab plants to stop her descent in time. Though she was unsuccessful, she managed to prevent herself from shooting off the slide and instead tumbled gracelessly onto the forest floor. Though bruised and rattled by the ride, she jumped up and called upwards to her friend, "I made it! It's fine! Just slow down a lot at the end!"

She heard an answering call, and about two minutes later, shrieks and grunts told her that Nyssa was on her way down. Her friend was less successful at decelerating, and she shot off the slide, falling in a heap just short of a tree.

"Oh, that could have been bad!" Tegan breathed as she ran to help her friend. "Are you okay?"

Nyssa groaned. "I am going to ache for days!" With Tegan's help, she struggled to her feet. "Oh, I really scraped my leg here. But I seem to be fine. I hope I never have to do that again."

"Me too." She knelt and checked Nyssa's leg. "Yeah, that's scratched up, but it's not too bad. Come on. Let's get to the TARDIS and we can bandage that up." Jumping up, she took hold of Nyssa's hand and tugged a little in the direction she wanted to go.

Nyssa resisted. "Isn't the TARDIS more to the left?"

Tegan shrugged. "Maybe. It doesn't matter. Either way, we'll hit the river and we'll be able to see the TARDIS from there."

"Oh, good point." She nodded, indicating that Tegan should lead the way. "I'm so glad you knew what to do. I don't know how you can stay so calm."

Tegan puffed herself up. "I'm an air hostess. We're trained for emergency situations like this, to get everyone out of the airplane safely. And that cliff looked just like a plane's emergency slide, so I knew we could do it."

"Well." Nyssa grinned at her friend. "I know you want to get to the airport to get back to your job, but I'm really glad you're here with us. Thanks."

Smiling in return, Tegan squeezed Nyssa's hand and they ran off together through the forest towards the river.


	3. One Day

**Author's Note**: Entry for Drabble Challenge #31 ("Back") at who_contest on LiveJournal.

Familiarity with "The Day of the Doctor" recommended.

* * *

The moment the ship landed, the Doctor burst from the blue doors, barely glancing behind him to see that they latched closed as he sprinted over the high weeds growing among the rubble of buildings destroyed decades ago. This area hadn't been restored yet, but it hardly mattered: he was looking for the housing estate on the current edge of the city.

As he ran, hopping over broken concrete, the old curator's resonant voice still rang in his ears. "Gallifrey falls no more." The planet, his home, survived, and that meant that the Time Lords survived. They hadn't been wiped from existence wherever they stood, because the Moment was never fired. Every few steps, he leapt into the air and whooped.

He raced to a twisted chain-link fence that guarded the steep, gravelly slope down to the estate and, grabbing it, leaned far over to peer at the families in the playground below. He bounced on his toes as he searched, finally spying a young woman with curly black hair, sitting on a bench, watching over three small children playing tag among the play structures. A man who looked old enough to be her grandfather sat with his arm around her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

The Doctor leaned back, his eyes bright and proud. "Susan. With your David. As it should be."

He spied a path down from a break in the fence. Spinning on his heel, he turned towards it, then hesitated, looking down at the family again. "You're alive, safe and happy. You're where you should be." Clasping his hands together, he shook his head with some regret. "You don't need your silly old grandfather mucking everything up." Glancing down at them one last time, he murmured, "One day, I… oh, you know."

Content, the Doctor smiled as he strolled back to the TARDIS.


	4. Home and Heart

**Author's Note**: Entry for Drabble Challenge #32 ("Moon") at who_contest on LiveJournal.

Familiarity with "Silence in the Library"/"Forest of the Dead" recommended.

* * *

After a fine lunch of sandwiches and apple slices, the children were almost climbing over themselves to get out into the summer sun to play. Ella was bouncing in her chair while Joshua tried to twist himself into sitting on his head while obeying the rule of staying in his seat, if not the spirit. Charlotte, as usual, had her nose buried in a book, but the tapping of her foot against the leg of the chair indicated her impatience to run and play as well.

"Ok, you lot!" Mummy cried. "Out you go!" Cheering and giggling, the three children jumped up and skipped out of the house, tumbling out onto the lawn. As the girls grabbed the jump rope and bullied their younger brother into playing, their mother leaned against the door jamb and watched them as they sang their rhyming song in cadence with the boy's hops.

_Stories for the dreaming boy,_  
_Far more fun than any toy._  
_Brilliant tales for every girl._  
_Doctor Moon protects the world._

_One, two, three, four!_  
_Pick the books up from the floor!_  
_Five, six, seven, eight!_  
_Put them 'way and don't be late!_

_As the bright day turns to night,_  
_Doctor Moon will shine his light,_  
_And when the shadows come to call,_  
_Doctor Moon will comfort all._

Mummy twirled a blond curl with a finger. Tomorrow, she'd take them to travel the universe, as she herself had done in her old life. After all, they had all the books ever written to explore, countless worlds and stories to visit. All she needed to do was request the computer to render one for them. _Or_, she mused as she gazed at her children with a tender smile, _perhaps we'll stay here and enjoy another beautiful day._


	5. Ravenous

**Author's Note**: Written for the deviantArt group Literary Fanfiction's Flash Fan Fiction Friday prompt, to choose a fanfiction trope from TV Tropes. Chosen trope is "Doppleganger Crossover."

Crossover between _Doctor Who_ and _Casanova_.

* * *

"Down this way!"

The tall man yanked his blond companion into the alley and they pelted at top speed with barely a glance behind them.

"It's going to kill us, Doctor!" the girl cried as he skidded to a stop and, with frantic gestures, ushered her through a low door into a villa garden.

"Nonsense, Rose!" he replied as he dashed around, taking stock of what was at hand. "We just startled him. And honestly, he's not murderous," he grinned as he leapt over a low fence into a chicken coop, "he's just hungry."

As a fanged beast, about the size of a large dog, charged in and roared at Rose, the Doctor scooped up a chicken and tossed it into the animal's mouth. It dropped to the ground and started on its meal.

"There! You see? Perfect." He pulled a leash out of his pocket and slipped it over its head. Then he knelt and stroked it as it ate.

The villa door burst open and a man wearing a crimson coat lavishly embroidered with gilt thread strode out. "What's going on out here?"

Rose gasped, and even the Doctor froze, stunned. Despite his younger countenance and shoulder-length chestnut hair, the stranger looked exactly like the Doctor.

"What?" blurted the Time Lord.

The man's eyes flicked first to the beast, then to the Doctor, and finally locked on Rose. His initial confusion was replaced by a disarming smile.

"Ah, visitors!" He approached Rose and bowed, kissing her hand. "And such a beautiful one, as well. Welcome to my villa. You are?"

Rose blushed. "Rose Tyler." He still held her hand, and she didn't care.

"Rose. Enchanting! I am Giacomo Casanova."

"Casanova?" Rose repeated, staring into the man's mesmerising eyes.

The Doctor rolled his eyes at her credulousness. "Rose, come along."

"Can't we stay for a bit?" she pleaded, unable to tear her gaze from the man.

"Rose..."

She sighed wistfully. "I'm sorry, Giacomo. We have to go," she murmured, though she didn't make a move to leave.

"A pity." He caressed her cheek lightly with one hand. "I hope that you will favor me with another visit, soon."

The Doctor stepped forward and caught Rose's hand, leading her and the beast out of the garden. He called over his shoulder as they disappeared through the doorway, "We'll come back, some day. I owe you a chicken."


	6. All Part of the Plan

**Author's Note**: Written for the deviantArt group Literary Fanfiction's Flash Fan Fiction Friday prompt, "A Lucky Break."

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Stifling a painful grunt, Martha was amazed her shoulder wasn't pulled from its socket as the Doctor yanked her by her hand into the shadowy alcove as they were sprinting away from the guards. Her mobile, which she'd hastily stuffed into her jacket, wasn't so lucky, spilling from her pocket as she was jerked in the opposite direction of their flight. Tumbling in the air, it smashed on the metal grating of the catwalk, the fragments of its plastic casing and circuit boards bursting like fireworks before falling through the holes, down among the acid vats far below. Martha managed an outraged "Oh!" before the Doctor clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shush!" he breathed in her ear as he drew her into the darkness behind a pile of crates.

"My mo-" she squeaked out as he loosened his hand from her mouth for an instant. As she glared her fury at him, he lifted a finger to his lips, then removed his hand from her face.

"Do you know how much that cost?" she hissed.

"I'll get you a new one," he murmured as he stared past her, watching for trouble.

"All my contacts and photos are on _that_ one! You can't replace those!"

Glancing at her, he tapped his temple. "That's what this is for. Now shush. They'll be here any moment."

As they crouched in the darkness, still and silent, the clanging of boots on grating announced the arrival of their pursuers. "Look there!" barked one of them. A uniformed man carrying a small device strode into view and knelt, picking up a large plastic shard. "That's why the signal cut out. They destroyed their transmitter. We'll have to find them the old-fashioned way." Springing to his feet, he pocketed his device and dashed off in the direction the two fugitives had been running, followed by more guards with rifles. The hidden figures waited a bit more before emerging from their concealment.

Peering up and down the catwalk, the Doctor flashed a delighted smile at his companion. "See? All better. Told you I'd get us out of that." Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, he scanned below them.

Martha snorted at him as she straightened her jacket. "Oh, no! You're not going to claim credit for that piece of luck. You had no idea they were tracking us by it."

"Sure I did!" His impish grin betrayed his lie. Holding his screwdriver to his ear, he listened intently, eyes gleaming. "Oh ho! The phone's memory survived! I got the photos off it. Not your contacts, though. You must have stored those on the SIM card." He never quite understood how Martha managed to simultaneously glare and beam at him.

Stowing the screwdriver in his breast pocket, he jerked his head up the catwalk. "Come on. Time to find out what the captain's really hiding." Hand in hand, they jogged back the way they came.


	7. Two After Midnight

**Author's Note**: Entry for Drabble Challenge #33 ("River") at who_contest on LiveJournal.

Familiarity with "Midnight" recommended.

* * *

They sat on the edge of the pool, the roar of the waterfall drowning out the sounds of the forest around them. They'd both rolled their trouser legs up to dangle their feet in the cold water, the icy shock reminding them that they were alive.

After a few minutes, he scooted a tad closer to her and leaned his head on her shoulder, and she slipped her arm around him, first squeezing his shoulder, then running her fingers through his hair, playing with the soft locks the way her mum used to sometimes, when she was a girl, that would make her fall asleep even though she really wanted to see the end of the telly show. Though she felt more than heard his soft sigh at her touch on his scalp, she knew that he wouldn't fall asleep, that his wide eyes were haunted, horrified.

As she watched the river above plunge down, churning up raging clouds of mist where it met the water below, she mused on what had affected him like this. He'd faced death before, stood in front of aliens with claws and tentacles and poison, and men threatening to gun him down, without blinking an eye. Death doesn't scare him. Or, at least, death for a good, noble purpose doesn't. It wasn't the possession by the alien lifeform: he'd been controlled, rendered helpless, unable to protect the passengers of that bus, but from the stories he'd told her, and some she'd heard from Martha, he'd previously dealt with similar situations the way he did with everything else: as long as everything came out _molto bene_, he never looked back.

It was different this time, and she knew why, much as she didn't want to admit it. He was the eternal idealist. He searched for the magnificence in each person he met, but this time, as they dragged him to his death because he was clever, because he told them things they hadn't wanted to hear, because he was different, he saw what was truly inside: fear, ignorance, suspicion, hatred. Beneath the sparkling surface of the jewel, there was nothing, no substance, no beauty deep down. A tear slid down her cheek, for him, and for the failures of her species.

Gazing at the streams of falling water and entangling her fingers in his hair, she bit her lip to stop her usually glib tongue. She wanted to comfort him, but words, those empty, meaningless sounds, were the last things he wanted, from her, from anyone. She rested her head against the top of his. _No sapphires here, Doctor. Just me and you._ As the thought drifted through her mind, somehow, he heard her. He shifted ever so slightly, relaxing just a bit against her, and she knew that his eyes had finally fluttered closed.


	8. A Light Tale

**Author's Note**: Written for Flash Fan Fiction Friday in the Literary Fan Fiction community on deviantArt. Prompt is "Double Meaning".

* * *

If wiggling her fingers could save the Doctor, Donna would be a hero right now, but all she could do was strain against the ropes that bound her. Grandstanding in front of the alien tribunal in the courtroom below the gallery in which she was imprisoned, the Time Lord was, as usual, digging his grave deeper. With her mouth gagged, she couldn't even rake them with her usual acid tongue.

The lever that would release her from the frame on which she hung sat an inch beneath her toes, tantalisingly out of reach. Splaying her fingers, she gained purchase with her fingertips on the frame's metal bars, trying to pull herself down against the play in the ropes. She stretched one foot down, the tip of her shoe brushing the lever, but she couldn't move it. The other prisoners, the spaceship's crew, similarly trussed up, also failed in their attempts.

As the Doctor babbled on, the tribunes lost patience, growling menacingly. "Wait wait wait!" He held both hands up in panicked entreaty. "Listen!" He whirled, pacing to the opposite end of the courtroom from Donna. "You think they came to harm you, but they've a different _frame_ of reference. The _hook_ here is that they just wanted to learn about you. They mean you no harm." The tribunes glared at him, and the Doctor threw his arms up in theatrical frustration. "Oh, why won't you see the _light_?"

At that final oddly-emphasised word, Donna realised the Doctor was feeding her what she needed to know without clueing in their captors, whilst leading their gazes away. _Light? What light?_ It was night, the courtroom far below her lit by torches that might as well have been miles away. The gallery itself was cast in shadow. _I don't have light! What else did he say? 'Frame'? Okay, yeah, I'm on a frame. And 'hook'?_ Forcing her head back against the ropes, she glimpsed the hook she was hanging on: too small for the ropes looped on it. _If I could shake myself off it. Oh! LIGHT!_

Bracing her fingers on the bars, she pushed up, hard as she could, then twisted and squirmed. Two coils of rope slipped off the hook, loosening around her shoulders. As the Doctor launched into another brash argument, she shimmied her arms free and grabbed the bars to pull herself upwards, then lashed a hand up to knock the last loop off the hook and fell to the floor. Masked by the Doctor's volume, she stepped out of her bindings to the others to free them. As they snuck out, Donna called down. "Oi, Martian, we're done hanging about up here. Find us a better party next time, won't you?"

As the court whirled on her, the Doctor grinned, sprinting for the courtroom door. Donna was already on her way out of the gallery, and now that she was back to doing what they did best - running - she knew everything would be all right. Eventually.


	9. The Last Gift

bAuthor's Note/b: Written for Flash Fan Fiction Friday for Literary Fan Fiction at deviantArt (prompt: "Control") and drabble contest for who_contest at LiveJournal (prompt: "Child").

Requires familiarity with "The End of Time" and "Journey's End", with reference to "The Caves of Androzani".

* * *

I'm dying. You're coming for me, Death, and there's nothing I can do to stop you. But I can hold you off, just a little longer.

I've failed, this time around. I've been shown my soul and I can see what I've done. I've taken in good, brilliant people, and turned them into fighters, killers. The Children of Time, they're called: my companions, my protégés. The Defender of the Earth, with her stony stare and her gun as large as she is. The immortal Captain with his platoon, hiding under the ground, waiting with their arms and technology for the next attack from above. The Woman Who Walked the Earth and her husband, the "Idiot", tracking alien menaces and destroying them before they can harm their world. The Most Important Woman in the Universe, the one who tried to guide me, to stop me, to keep me from falling into the darkness. The one who never touched a weapon. Ha! Now there's my finest work! To thank her for her efforts, I stole her life from her. And then my Sarah Jane, who waited decades for me to return to her. She still devotes her life and her son to battling the endless threats from the skies.

Without my friends, I lose my way. But with them, they lose theirs. They become my pawns, my soldiers in this eternal war against the universe that I call my life. I train them to analyze threats, draw up strategies, and wade fearlessly into battle. They've left me, all of them, and they're still fighting. And they're training new soldiers to carry on my legacy.

They're with their families now, living their own lives, as normal as they can possibly be, which isn't much. I know you're waiting for them, Death, and they'll come to you eventually. Well, one of them, you'll be waiting a very long time for. The others, you'll see them all too soon. But I can hold you off, just a little longer. Protect them, save them, or at least give them a bit of hope, a little happiness. One last time.

I owe it to my friends to try because I got them into this. So, you see, I'm not going to let you stop me now.


	10. You Can Go

Written for LiteraryFanFiction on deviantArt for the 1/23/2015 Flash Fan Fiction Friday contest (prompt is "Secondary Character Narration", though this really feels more like a tertiary character narration) and the "Vast" drabble prompt for the who_contest community on LiveJournal.

Requires familiarity with "Human Nature" / "Family of Blood", to the point where this story won't make any sense if you're not familiar with that episode pair.

* * *

The second-to-the-last time I saw her was late the next day. We were all exhausted, after rounding all the boys back up, delivering them to their frightened parents, explaining to all of them what had happened the night before when we weren't even sure ourselves. The school finally empty of panicked families, she was standing alone in the cavernous entrance hallway, seemingly dazed. The rest of the staff had gone home, so it was just her and me.

"There's nothing left to do today," I called to her. "You should go home."

"Yes, thank you, Thomas," she murmured. "I believe I shall." She didn't look at me. Instead, she gazed about the chamber. "I never realised how echoing and empty it is, when everyone is taken from it. So silent, when the voices you've grown accustomed to are gone."

Stepping to her, I squeezed her shoulder. "Don't despair, Joan. Strange things have happened here, and we've suffered terrible losses, but thankfully, none of the boys were injured. Rocastle, Philips, and Smith gave their lives to defend them, and we should think them all heroes. The school will reopen, next year maybe, and these halls will be filled again. We'll need you."

"Perhaps. I never thought..." She turned away, and I had the distinct impression she hadn't been talking about the school. "Do you think...?"

"Yes?" I tried to coax her question as gently as I could, and she peered back at me.

"Does God understand us at all?" The question took me aback, and she continued when I wasn't inclined to respond. "If He were to walk amongst us, what must He see? I cannot think that He feels as we do. He is so vast, so far above us, could He comprehend all our little concerns, our loves, our tragedies? The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, but can He really know what the gift and the loss mean to us? I cannot think that He understands why we love when we do."

I admit, I had no answer and gaped like a goldfish. She smiled. "Ah, I am being silly. Don't mind me, Thomas. I am so very tired, I don't know what I'm saying. I shall see you tomorrow. I've the infirmary to clean up." She nodded to me and let herself out of the tall front doors.

I saw her for the last time a month later, in the church graveyard, from a distance, She had a book clutched to her breast, and I saw her place a large red flower in front of John's gravestone. She spoke, but I could not hear what she said to him. Then she left, and I am given to understand that she caught the post to Norwich that day, and then a train to some distant place. As I approached his marker, I saw that she hadn't left a flower. It was a cricket ball. I suppose I shall always wonder why.


	11. Yet Another Corridor

Written for LiteraryFanFiction on deviantArt for the 6/26/2015 Flash Fan Fiction Friday contest (prompt is "Twist").

* * *

"Come on!" Jack urged as they sprinted, pulling Rose along by the hand. "It's right behind us! It's gaining, by the sound of it, but just a little further and we're finally out of this cursed place."

Rose couldn't hear anything over their frantic footsteps that echoed through the metal corridors and her own ragged panting, but she imagined its hot breath on her neck and slavering jaws, and that was enough to keep her running. Turning a corner, Jack slammed into a solid door and grunted an "Oof!" as Rose sandwiched him against it. Pushing her off none too gently, he grabbed at the handle. "It's locked!"

"Lucky I have this, then." She dug the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket, then stared at it. "I don't know how it works."

"Point and click, I hope!" Jack grabbed her hand and pointed the device at the door. She pressed the button on the side, but despite the high electronic trill, nothing happened.

"Oonnh!" Rose groaned as she fiddled with the device. "Come on. Come on!" But she fell silent as they both heard footsteps on the other side of the door as well. She glanced up at Jack, who, placing a finger to his lips to beg her silence, stepped back to peer around the corner, back they way they had come.

"Nothing yet," he murmured, "but..."

The footsteps quickened then stopped. Rose jerked as the door handle turned, backing into Jack, whose hands on her shoulders were oddly reassuring. The door swung open, revealing Jack in his long coat. His eyes flicked to just above her head, then to her face. "Rose," he whispered, "what is that behind you?"


	12. This Night

**Author's Notes**: Requires familiarity with "Colditz".

This was written for LiteraryFanFiction for the 7/3/2015 Flash Fan Fiction Friday contest. The prompt is "Jumbled", and requires a story that uses at least five of a list of random words (the words are listed at the end, with the ones I used in italics - 15 of them, not bad).

* * *

Staring out of the window overlooking the lake far below, its foggy shoreline barely discernable under the sliver of moon, Ace repeatedly squeezed the bar in her hand as an outlet for her anxious energy. The breakout would be tonight, and she could only hope that it would start before Kurtz came to her cell.

She'd thought that the feldwebel was the stereotypical Nazi grunt she'd seen in the cinema - a stupid, barbaric lemming, following that oily dictator for his promises of German supremacy. She'd seen that he was hungering for advancement in the ranks and that it had made him cruel, but she soon detected something more. It wasn't just nationalism and propaganda to him; he really believed that she, as a Brit, was little more than an animal, and that made him all the more frightening. When he'd promised to rape her this night, there was nothing of lust or malice in those cold eyes beneath the spiked helmet; it was simply his method of establishing dominance, how he broke a recalcitrant horse. And there was nothing she could do to stop him. She'd of course had been stripped of her things, and now she was locked in an empty room, the window barred to deny the salvation of a plummet down the sheer wall to the rocks a hundred feet below. Her only recourse might be to scream for help, but this deep in Colditz, the guards would turn a deaf ear, the Geneva Convention be damned. It was far more likely that the slender, delicate Kurtz would enlist the more muscular soldiers to strip off her dress and pin her down while he worked, then leave her to them as a reward for their assistance.

"Come on. Come on!" she murmured to herself as she began to pace, praying to no one in particular. She was alone and, as much as she was loathe to admit it, terrified. The Doctor was gone, who knew where, and all her hopes depended on a handful of prisoners with a shaky escape plan. They had to succeed, and soon.

With a metallic click, a door down the hallway opened. A flood of ice coursed through her breast: the footsteps that followed were too solid, too assured to be those of sneaking prisoners. Swallowing against her fear, Ace backed against the furthest wall as the door creaked open.

* * *

**Word List**: perfect, hunter, _muscular_, confuse, detonator, _frightening_, Halloween,_ dictator_, bughouse, apocalyptic, bin, elegant, huge, badmouth, _scream_, _helmet_, _flood_, presumed, cement, _foggy_, footwork, rabbit, insecure, _hand_, easy, quick, rain, famous, gate, mob, curve, imaginary, scar, _anxious_, _propaganda_, torpedo, balloon, clover, address, curiosities, export, evacuation, private, halfway, program, filament, dropping,_advancement_, _cell_, _under_, nomad, _dress_, finch, describes, fold, marsh, earthmen, bear, ark, hooves, ambush, accessories, hard, purple, _barbaric_, glamor, bittersweet, academy, calling, nectar, dead, gobbling, ether, bitter, brigade, fuzz, confused, avocado, super, soup


	13. And Finally, the Handbrake

**Author's Note: **Written in answer to a concept my husband posed to me tonight, and then I realized the story fit both the Flash Fan Fiction Friday for LiteraryFanFiction at deviantArt (prompt: "Inconsistencies") and the one-shot contest for who_contest at LiveJournal (prompt: "Release"). _Three_ birds, pop!

* * *

As the TARDIS tumbled into the time vortex, Amy sauntered around the console and murmured in the Doctor's ear, "So, Doctor. Why won't you just release the handbrake?"

Hunched over to check the calibration of the gravitic anomaliser, he barely turned his head to reply, "Why would I, Pond?"

She stepped back, thrusting a hand at the column rising to the ceiling above them. "So that the time rotor stops making that horrible noise!"

Jerking back like he'd been slapped, the Doctor turned a hurt look at his companion. "Why would I want it to stop making that noise? I love that noise!"

"It's like you have an elephant stuck in there!" She nudged his arm with a fist. "Really, Doctor, I think you just like it because it's loud and bothers everyone, don't you?"

Whirling on his heel, the Doctor clapped his hands together and leaned forward to explain himself clearly. "Amy, all TARDISes make that noise. Always have. The handbrake has nothing to do with it. It's off, for your information. I always release it. The TARDIS won't take off with it on."

"But River said…" she protested, but he cut her off by grasping her shoulders.

"Amy."

"What?" she replied, meeting his gaze with wide, questioning eyes.

He spoke very slowly and clearly. "Do you remember what River told you?"

She continued to stare straight into his eyes. "She's told me a lot of things."

"But there's one thing she's told you," he stated, squeezing her shoulders for emphasis, "one thing that's so very important. The Doctor lies."

A smirk slowly spread across Amy's face as she thought she understood. "Come on, Doctor. Just release the handbrake."

"No. You don't get it." He nodded at her, and she felt compelled to mimic the bob. "When Professor River Song tells you, 'The doctor lies,' why do you think she's necessarily talking about me?"


	14. The Explorer

**Author's Note**: Written for the "Brilliance" drabble prompt for who_contest at LiveJournal.

* * *

He stands on the craggy rock overlooking the wide, sere valley. The indigenous vegetation here is not organic; the columnar structures that dot the land as far as the distant hills are crystal formations, formed at the cracks in the ground where the mineral-laden water seeps out, evaporating in the harsh light from the azure sun above to form luminous trees with faceted, jeweled leaves that flash and sparkle as his eyes rove across the landscape. Massive six-legged creatures trundle among them, slow and deliberate. Lazily grazing, their diamond teeth crush the jagged flora into gemstone sand. From this distance, their armoured plating of emerald and topaz and sapphire appears as shimmering iridescence.

This is the first time he has been here, but he has viewed breathtaking vistas like this countless times in the past; the universe has never failed to dazzle him with its variety and its magnificence. Yet, though he has visited the most beautiful places and seen wonders beyond imagining, never once has their brilliance outshone that of the one standing beside him as he beheld them. He travels to every planet, to explore their secrets and meet their peoples, but what truly enchants him are the intricate worlds inside the individuals who have captured his hearts. Taking his companion's hand, he draws his strength from the touch and finds his peace in their friendship.


	15. Her Father's Daughter

Sorry about that, love! The door, you know. Flowers. Oh, no! Got the wrong flat. Flowers for me? As if. Been years since I got flowers. Gotta send them to meself.

Now, what was I saying? Oh yeah. Yeah. I know, I know. She's just a kid. I shouldn't push so hard, but still. All that money to buy equipment and uniforms, then one meet and she wins the bronze and _that's it_! Won't go to lessons, won't practise. Same with schooling. She'll never be anything if she don't apply herself. Always flitting about, that one. Her father's daughter, you know, God rest his soul.

Well, it's not as if gymnastics is good for anything. _My_ daughter's not gonna swing on a pole for money. But what's next? Whatever catches her fancy. Wandering off is the one thing she's good at. Not enough eyes in the world to keep on her. She just does what she wants, follows the wind, she does. One day, I swear, she's just going to disappear and I don't know what I'll do.


End file.
